JJ's Wonderful Life
by RatherBeAWriter
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, but the tragic death of a young girl haunts JJ. Caught up in her guilt, she starts to wonder if the world would have been better if she'd never been born. But it seems that someone wants to convince her otherwise. Will it be enough to bring her home?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is the reason (aside from real life!) that I've been so terrible at updating stories recently. It might be a little early but I have a ton of assessments coming up before Christmas, and this idea has run away with itself, so I thought I'd get on with posting. I also have some other ideas for Christmas fics (including the Christmas Gift Fic Exchange) which I'd like to have done by the 25th. :)**

**In case it isn't obvious, this story is a Criminal Minds twist on the theme of "It's a Wonderful Life". There will be plenty of nods to one of the greatest films of all time but there are also plenty of ideas of my own in there too.**

**As always, I own nothing to do with Criminal Minds, and I hope you enjoy the story. **

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Darlene Love's voice filled the car as JJ drove home. She turned the radio off in a temper, unable to find a station where the music wasn't filled with the sound of sleighbells. That was probably to be expected, given that it was mid-afternoon on the 24th of December, but she was far from being in the festive spirit.

As she continued to drive, now with just the sound of the car's engine and the slushy remnants of snow beneath the tires, her mind replayed the events which had led her to her lack of enthusiasm for the holidays. It had all gone wrong the previous night. Up until that point they'd been a step ahead of the UNSUB. They just hadn't profiled that he would change his victimology; they hadn't thought he would move from targeting prostitutes to targeting teenage girls. And by the time they saw what was happening, it was too late.

"Drop your weapon!" her own voice had shouted, as she'd approached the barn. The others had been back at the main house, but she'd known Reid wasn't too far behind. The call had been hers to make. Protocol said she should wait for back-up, but instinctively she'd approached the door and shouted.

He'd spun around immediately, glaring at the agent who'd disrupted him. If she'd shot sooner, then maybe the outcome would have been different. But she wanted to give him that one last chance to surrender. They weren't killers; using a bullet to take down an UNSUB was a last resort.

Unfortunately he hadn't had the same regard for human life and the bullet had left the chamber of his gun quicker than her brain could process. A flash. A bang. And the girl was bleeding out on the floor.

His body was quickly in the same position, following a single shot to the head, fired with a reflexive squeeze of the trigger the instant she realised what was happening.

But her actions were in vain.

"JJ, are you okay?" Spencer had asked, when he arrived, weapon drawn, and eyes wide as he took in the scene before him.

By then JJ had been cradling the girl in her arms, begging her to stay alive. As was revealed by the post-mortem the following morning, the bullet had missed her heart but torn an artery. She hadn't died quickly or painlessly as JJ had later told her distraught parents. It had taken several minutes before the ever-decreasing cloud of breath stopped forming in the cold air. Several long minutes where her wide and fearful eyes had watched JJ and begged to see her parents one last time.

"You should have waited," Hotch had told her sternly before they returned to the hotel in a state of exhaustion and sadness. "You know better than to go after an UNSUB on your own."

His words and disappointment only added to her sense of guilt. What if she hadn't waited before pulling the trigger? What if she hadn't alerted him to her presence or approached the barn?

What if she hadn't been there at all?

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Pulling up in front of her house, JJ tried to push the case to the back of her mind. It was Christmas Eve. Her mom was arriving later that day. And Henry and Will were inside. With a forced smile, she turned her keys in the door and stepped inside.

"Will," she called out, only to be met with the sound of her husbands frustrated curses drifting from the living room. "Will, is everything okay?" she asked, following the sound of his voice.

"The damn lights don't work!" he snapped in response, throwing the string of Christmas lights to the ground. He was kneeling on the floor, with an array decorations scattered all around.

"Why don't I try?" she offered, shrugging her arms out of her jacket and placing her go-bag on the floor.

"What are you gonna do that I haven't tried?" he responded, shortly.

"I was just trying to help," she muttered, feeling slightly taken aback by his tone.

"If you wanted to help you coulda been here before now. It's your mom that's comin'," he reminded her pointedly, abandoning the lights and walking straight past her towards the kitchen.

"Where's Henry?" she asked, changing the subject and looking for a excuse to avoid getting into a proper argument.

"He's in his room," came Will's response, followed by the slamming of pots and pans onto the counter in the kitchen.

Feeling even worse from her encounter with her husband, JJ climbed the stairs to see her son. She bit her lip and fought back tears, anticipating the comfort of the little boy's smiling face, and after knocking softly on the door, stepped into his room.

"Hey, Henry," she greeted him, surprised that he remained so quiet - he normally came close to knocking her off her feet when she returned from a long case.

Henry glanced up from the game he was playing with his action figures wearing the same accusatory look Will had given her moments before.

"You missed my nativity play," he said slowly, watching as her expression instantly changed.

Though she hadn't thought it possible, her heart sunk even lower into her stomach. Not only had she missed the Christmas pageant at his school, but she had completely forgotten about it.

"I'm so sorry, Henry," she told him, feeling the tears start to burn in her eyes once again.

Henry didn't miss his mother's attempt to discreetly wipe her eyes with her sleeve. It was never good when grown-ups cried.

"Aunt Penny made a video and I can put on my costume and sing you my song," he told her, brightening slightly as he got to his feet and crossed the room towards her. Six year-olds could only stay mad for so long before they opted to fall into their mothers' arms.

JJ wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his hair. Pressing kisses to the top of his head, she inhaled the scent which always made her feel that she was home. But it was different this time. The overwhelming love for her son was there, but around the edges gnawed the sickening guilt which had fixed itself deep inside her body. She'd let him down and there was very little she could do to fix that.

"I love you," she murmured. "I love you so much, Henry. Even when I'm not here."

"Did you get the bad guy?" he whispered, and though he received no answer, she pulled him even tighter against her chest.

/  
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"Do you need any help?" JJ asked carefully, after leaving Henry to return to his game and joining her husband in the kitchen. Will was beginning the preparations for Christmas dinner the next day.

"I've needed your help for the past three days," he replied, without looking up from the vegetables he was chopping.

"Will, I was..." she began hopelessly.

"I know, it's the job," he cut her off. "I knew what I was gettin' into when I married you," he added, not caring that he was being hurtful. Juggling his own job and the run up to Christmas with a small child hadn't been easy and he was angry. Not necessarily with her, but with the fact she hadn't been there.

"I'm sorry," she apologised quietly.

"Did you get him?" Will asked, showing little real interest as he presented her with the same question as her son.

"He's dead," she responded, giving very little away. It seemed that her absence from home could only be excused if she was successful in her work. But if she couldn't even do that, then where did that leave her?

Will didn't ask any further questions and returned his full attention to the carrots on the chopping board. JJ waited, willing him to turn around and see that she was struggling. But it seemed he was too consumed by his anger to be aware of anything else. She felt her chest tighten with the tension in the room and the surge of emotion that she'd been trying to keep at bay.

"I'm going out," she mumbled, needing to get away.

"You just got back," he snapped in disbelief.

"I'm going to get new Christmas lights," she decided, trying to think of something which might make her feel less useless. "I won't be long."

"Don't worry, we can all survive just fine without you, JJ."

She anticipated the sting of his words but it never came. All she felt was that someone had finally said aloud what she had been thinking all day.

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The shopping mall was giving her a headache. It was bright and busy and full of people who also seemed to be missing the joy of the season. All around her, impatient shoppers bustled about, clutching their paper cups of overpriced and over-sweetened coffee, or struggling under the weight of their bags. Children whined at the lack of attention they were receiving from their parents. Teenagers stropped over being forced to spend time with their families. And amongst it all, the taunting sound of cheerful bells stood out from the music playing over the sound system.

"Excuse me," JJ said to the bored and hungover looking shop assistant. "I'm looking for a set of Christmas lights."

"We don't have any," the girl replied, barely acknowledging the customer, and without missing a beat.

"You don't have _any_?" JJ responded, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

"No," came the short answer.

"Can you tell me where they would have been?" she enquired, deciding she'd check for herself.

"Over there," the assistant shrugged, pointing towards some disorganised and partially empty shelves.

"Thank you," JJ muttered sarcastically, as the girl return to slouching against the counter, before she headed in the direction she had been pointed.

Unfortunately, leaving the low standard of customer service aside, she discovered that the young shop assistant had been right. Despite the franticness of her search among the dented boxes of glass baubles and Santa shaped candles, there wasn't a single string of lights to be found. A fresh wave of disappointment hit her weary mind and she let out a deep sigh. How could they have a Christmas tree without lights? Fixing the tree was the least she could have done to start making up for her latest absence.

But, as fate would have it, there were far greater events at play in the universe than a broken string of Christmas lights.

Perhaps if she'd been paying greater attention she'd have heard the shout of an elderly woman warning her of what was about to happen. Perhaps if she'd been thinking of more than her every failure, from her inability to save a life, to her inability to decorate a tree for her son, she'd have heard the snapping of strings above her. And if she'd just have looked up for a split second, she might have seen the object falling towards the ground.

But she didn't.

And that was how Agent Jennifer Jareau came to lie unconscious in the middle of a shopping mall on Christmas Eve, with a cardboard angel by her side and her preceding thoughts lingering on how everything would be so much better in a world where she didn't exist.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for the positive response to this! I've spent a lot of time planning and writing so it's good to know there are people who like the idea. Anyway, here is the next chapter. I hope you like it and I'd love to hear what you think :)**

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The darkness faded and her fuzzy vision cleared into focus. She prepared herself for the pain to surge from the back of her skull, but it never came. And her surprise increased as she realised she was no longer in the mall, but on the floor of her office.

"Jennifer?" a voice called, as she sat upright and looked around in confusion.

"Clara?" she mumbled in bewilderment, watching the face she hadn't been able to shake from her mind stare back at her. "Am I dead?" she asked.

Her question was met with a chuckle.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" the strangely ethereal girl responded, wandering around the room with equal measures of grace and boredom.

JJ frowned, trying to remember exactly what had happened. She'd been at the mall, hadn't she? Or maybe she hadn't. Maybe the blow to her head had happened elsewhere.

Tentatively, she got to her feet, scanning her surroundings for some explanation of what was going on. Her eyes came to rest on the photo frames on her desk. Where Henry should have been grinning widely to proudly display the gap from losing his first baby tooth, there was a picture of some unknown Labrador. Her wedding photo was also nowhere to be seen, and though her favourite group-shot of the team - taken in the later stages of a night which involved far too many rounds of tequila - remained, something didn't seem quite right. Before she realised what was wrong, she noticed the stack of business cards lying at the edge of the desk.

"Jordan Todd?" she read aloud, immediately recognising the agent who had covered her maternity leave in the remaining photos. "Why's Jordan Todd using my office?"

She was trying to block out the fact that a person who had died in her arms was standing in the corner of the office. Hallucinating wasn't a good sign, no matter what else was going on.

"I need to call Will; I think something's wrong with me," she mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose and almost wishing she would feel pain. "Where is he?"

"I'd guess he's in New Orleans," the girl replied, only causing JJ's unease to grow.

"Why would he be in New Orleans?" she responded, her confusion forcing her to confront the apparition.

"Because it's where he lives," came the blunt response. "And he's probably nursing a whisky at the bar by this time," she added.

"No, he has to be with Henry," JJ insisted, reaching into her pocket to retrieve her cellphone, only to glance at the screen and find that she had no service. "Where are my son and husband?" she demanded, grabbing hold of the phone on the desk and dialling her home number.

After several failed attempts at reaching her family, JJ began to pace the room, rubbing her temples and fighting against her frightened tears. She was losing it. She was seeing things and hearing voices. Maybe that last case had been one too many; maybe it had been the last push she'd needed to break her.

But where were her friends? Shouldn't someone be there, noticing that she was having some sort of break down?

She saw a light coming from the other side of the bullpen and ran towards it's source. It seemed that, even aside from the ghostly figure of Clara, she was not alone. Dashing out of the room and along the walkway, a faint trace of hope burned through her unease.

"Hotch?" she called, stepping into his office, with a sense of relief when he looked just as he should.

Her boss's stern and tired expression glanced up, coated in a kind of puzzlement which, in her distressed state, she failed to register.

"I'm so happy to see you; I thought I was going mad!" she gushed, a grin spreading across her face.

It took a moment for the man to reply.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" he frowned.

Her face immediately dropped as his words reached her ears and, for the first time, she looked carefully around the room and at the man. The office was his. He was definitely her boss and friend. Even his suits were the same. But there were subtle differences - flecks of grey were visible in his dark hair and there was a sadness in his eyes that she'd only seen once before, when Haley was killed.

"It's me," she mumbled hopelessly. "It's JJ. Jennifer. Agent Jareau?" Her tone elevated into a question as no look of recognition crossed his face.

"Did we meet at a conference?" he enquired, putting down his pen as he scrutinised the woman in front of him.

"No, we work together," she insisted, beginning to sound frantic. "I was your media liaison and then I became a profiler. You drove me to the hospital when I was in labour. I babysat Jack for you last weekend."

At her last statement, he stopped appearing confused and became angry.

"Is this some sort of joke?" he accused, standing up so that he was taller than the crazy woman who had appeared in his office.

"No, you know me!" she insisted. "We're friends. Family. We all are. Spencer Reid? Derek Morgan?" She started to list the names of her colleagues, hoping he'd remember someone. "Emily Prentiss?"

"Agent Prentiss died," he told her, a combination of rage and grief flashing across his eyes.

"Not really," she continued, shaking her head forcefully. "We told everyone she had; we faked her death - we had to. And then she came back to us and we caught Doyle."

"You're mistaken," he informed her coolly, though he was struggling to remain calm. "I don't know how you know about me and my team, or how you got in here, but you need to leave."

Before Hotch could say anything more, she had a spark of inspiration, and darted out of the room. They'd taken the picture off the wall when she returned. That would prove to him that Emily was still alive. That would prove that she still had some grip on reality.

"Come back!" Hotch called, starting after the blonde stranger as she ran across the bullpen and out into the corridor.

JJ reached the wall where the photographs and plaques commemorated those that had lost their lives in the line of duty. Her heart skipped a beat as she found Emily's smiling face in the bottom row.

"No," she whispered to herself. "We took that down."

"Excuse me," came Hotch's voice, from where he had stopped several metres away. His attitude towards her had adjusted as he got over his initial anger at the mention of Jack and Emily. The past few years had been difficult with losing custody of his son and then experiencing the death of his friend.

It dawned on her that he was treating her liked an unhinged suspect in the way that he kept his distance and spoke calmly and carefully.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

JJ's wide and confused eyes stared straight back at him.

"She's really dead?" she asked, the words catching in her throat. "And you really don't know me?"

He nodded, taking a tentative step towards the woman.

"Were you a friend of Emily's?" he enquired.

It was JJ's turn to nod silently. Wherever she was; whatever was happening, one of her friends had no idea who she was and another was dead. And it was more than she could comprehend.

"I think you're right," she told him, taking slow, steady breaths to keep herself grounded. "I should leave."

Her eyes met Clara's as she tried to recall the quickest way out of the building. The girl was lurking at the far end of the corridor and simply shrugged her shoulders at JJ's distressed expression.

Hotch turned around, wondering what the troubled woman was staring at, but remained puzzled upon noting that the corridor was as empty as it had been minutes before.

"Let me help you," he offered, as kind yet serious as ever.

"I'll be okay," she insisted. "My... my husband's waiting outside," she lied.

"Are you sure... Jennifer?" he hesitated as he tried to remember her name. The woman was behaving very strangely, and he still had no idea how she'd managed to get past security and into the building, but there was something about her that told him she wasn't as deranged as she'd first appeared.

"I'm sure," she assured him with a weak smile, already beginning to walk away. "Merry Christmas, Agent Hotchner," she added, not trusting herself to turn around to see the eyes that didn't recognise her.

"You too," he replied, watching until she stepped into the elevator, before turning his eyes to the image of his fallen friend on the wall.

It was at this moment that JJ dared to glance back, just in time to see the sad smile flicker across his lips. She could only imagine how much he missed her; how much they all would. As the metal doors closed, she wondered how everyone else was coping, and then felt fresh tears sting her eyes. How would she cope?

But then she remembered. In the world she knew, Emily was very much alive. It had only been a couple of days ago that they had joined forces to come up with an excuse to get the brunette out of spending the holidays with her mother.

This wasn't real; it couldn't be.

"What's going on?" she demanded angrily, spinning round to face the ghost she had been trying to ignore. "What's happening to me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the support for this story. I really appreciate all reviews, comments, follows and favourites. I've had the worst writer's block all week, thanks to a very stressful week of uni but here's the next chapter, and although it's short it definitely works better on its own. Next one is in progress! :)**

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There was a part of JJ that expected the world to be right once she left the building. Like somehow the FBI base at Quantico had fallen into some alternate universe, but life elsewhere was progressing as it should. But as she stepped out into the street and tried to call her family once again, her hope quickly faded. Frantically, she searched through the files on her cellphone looking for some sign of their existence.

"Where's Henry?" she demanded, her eyes wide with anger as she confronted her companion. "Where are all my photos?"

Outside of Quantico it was unnaturally quiet - it was obviously much later in the evening than she'd imagined. Fresh snow was falling onto the already thick white carpet, which covered the ground and every surface. The frozen blanket seemed to dull the echo of her raised voice.

Shielding the screen with one hand, she continued her search for a trace of her husband and child. Again she opened the empty album, which had once been filled with images of Henry as he grew from a baby to a toddler to a first-grader, and felt the sensation that someone was tearing her heart from her chest intensify.

"Where is my son?" she repeated, the tears in her eyes feeling hot in contrast to the snowflakes melting in her hair and on her eyelashes.

"You didn't want to exist," Clara responded, with less attitude than before. "If you don't exist then neither can Henry," she explained, an element of sympathy evident in her voice and eyes.

JJ stared at the girl, noting, somewhere amongst her own confusion, that she wasn't shivering despite the fact the temperature was far below freezing, and she was wearing only a thin shift dress.

"But I just saw him - he was going to sing for me; I was going to get lights for the tree. For him," JJ insisted, recalling his small arms wrapping as far around her body as they could, providing the only comfort she'd felt that day.

Clara shook her head. The blonde agent wasn't understanding. This was what she'd wished for; this was what she wanted from the world.

"Jennifer..." she began, only to be cut off immediately by another frightened and erratic outburst from the older woman.

"No! Don't talk to me! None of this is real; you're not real! You died!" she exclaimed, backing away from the girl and unknowingly stepping into the road.

The driver of one of the few passing cars had to slam on the breaks to avoid hitting her. He rolled down his window to address the strange woman,who was shouting at no one in particular as she stumbled around in the drifts of snow just beyond the kerb.

"Hey! Get out of the way!" he yelled, not having time to deal with lunatics or drunks on Christmas Eve. The long drive to his parents' house was still several hours from ending and he had no interest in adding to the journey by ta

JJ turned towards the source of the voice, catching sight of a small, blonde boy in the back seat of the car. Her heartbeat seemed to slow, echoing against her ribs, as she took in the similarities in the pale face looking straight at her.

"Henry?" she gasped, stepping closer to the vehicle, and the increasingly alarmed driver. "Henry!" she repeated as a smile appeared on her lips.

The boy looked frightened, as the strange woman gazed directly into his eyes. His father glared at her with a mixture of surprise and the kind of fierce warning that could only be seen in the eyes of the parent of a threatened child. The window was rapidly closed, as he prepared to make a quick get away.

JJ's face fell, as the engine revved, and she was forced to move out of the way. She watched as the brightness of the rear lights became glowing specks on the horizon. Soon they were entirely extinguished. But still she stared.

"That wasn't him," Clara told her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "That was just some other little kid."

I know," JJ muttered, realising how fragile her grip on what was real and acceptable seemed to be. There were so many differences between the child and her own son. Their eyes weren't the same colour for a start. But for a moment, her desire to hold her child had taken control of her rational thoughts and actions.

"I want my family," she continued, barely aware of the cold seeping through her boots and into the core of her body.

With the disappearance of the car and the child who wasn't Henry, the dark and frozen world was silent was again. Clara paused as she considered the purpose of her task.

"Not yet," she said. "You can't - not until you understand."

"Understand what?"

JJ's question hung in the air, as Clara took hold of her hand.

"There's a lot you need to see," came her cryptic response.

It wasn't enough that JJ wanted to be with her family; it wasn't even enough that she needed to be with them. To undo what had been done she would have to see just how much _she_ was needed, and understand just what she had to live for. And, on a night where her spirit had been broken and her perception of the world skewed towards the worst that most could imagine, that would be no easy task. But if Clara succeeded, then it would be worth it. For both of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited. Your reviews have really helped me figure out how to go about getting from this point in the story to the climax and ending (which I wrote in October!). I hope you like this chapter - I had a bit of fun with some of the less serious scenes! :) **

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The crisp, untouched snow turned into the far more familiar trampled slush, as they made their way down a crowded street lined with bars and restaurants. All around revellers spilled out onto the slippery pavements, clutching onto each other and laughing as their cigarettes glowed orange and their cheeks grew even more flushed in the cold air.

A young college student, intoxicated to the point of reckless courage, wolf-whistled as JJ walked by, extending a sprig of mistletoe and a sheepish grin in response to her unimpressed glare. His girlfriend promptly advised him of where he and his mistletoe could go, and he was soon trailing after her, shouting drunken apologies into the night.

"Where are we going?" JJ mumbled quietly, hiding her mouth behind her scarf. She couldn't very well be seen to be talking to herself in public. People might think she was crazy.

"Not far now," Clara responded, her eyes skimming the illuminated signs until they reached the bar she she searching for. "In here," she told JJ, pulling the blonde through an open doorway and into the bustle of the premises.

The warm, steamy air and the scent of the cinnamon and cloves from the mulled drinks filled JJ's nostrils from the first breath. The atmosphere was laced with liquor and music and laughter. It was the kind of place she spent Christmas Eve in the years before she was preoccupied with leaving cookies for Santa and sprinkling reindeer food around the garden.

She felt slightly dazed amongst the flashing Christmas lights and dancing couples, and she'd lost sight of Clara. Avoiding a waitress carrying a tray of brightly coloured shots, she stumbled into a man dressed as an elf, and then almost fell over as she tried to regain her balance.

A steadying arm reached out and took hold of her just in time to prevent a second collision with the elf.

"Easy there, girl," laughed a familiar voice, as she was guided towards a quieter section of the bar.

Her eyes grew wide, and she grinned in disbelief at the person smiling back at her.

"Derek Morgan," he introduced himself, placing a kiss on the hand he still held. "Saving pretty girls from dancing elves since 1973," he added with a wink.

She was too startled to speak. Derek Morgan was hitting on her. And his lines were worse than ever. She couldn't wait to tell Emily and Garcia...

Her smile faded as she quickly remembered her current circumstances.

"Everything okay?" he asked, as a pensive sadness filled her eyes. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure," she responded, her mouth operating several steps ahead of her brain.

"Have you got a name?" he enquired teasingly as she hesitantly followed him in the direction of the bar.

"Jennifer," she answered, wondering if she'd ever be "JJ" to anyone again.

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After ordering their drinks, Derek led JJ over to where several others she recognised from Quantico were stood around a table or up on the dance floor. It didn't take her long to spot Reid and Rossi, but as seemed to be the recurring theme, neither were quite as they'd been the last time she saw them.

"Rossi, meet Jennifer," Morgan called towards the Italian man.

Rossi raised his glass and nodded towards the latest blonde on his colleague's arm.

"Jennifer, meet Dave and the tenth Mrs Rossi," he added, receiving a disgruntled sigh and quirk of an eyebrow from the older man.

"Fifth," the woman corrected, extending an expensively manicured hand towards JJ. "And this time he's found the one that's made for him, right baby?" she added, placing her red talons across his chest in a possessive gesture, and pulling him into a kiss far too intense to be seen in public.

Averting her eyes, JJ's gaze met Derek's once again.

"I've got a hundred on it lasting three months, but I doubt I'll see that money again!" he grinned.

JJ laughed politely, but in truth, the sight of her long time friend being slobbered all over by a wife half his age made her feel nothing but uncomfortable. It would have been different if Rossi looked happy, but there was no warmth in his eyes, even when he plastered a smile across his face for the benefit of those around.

As she sipped her wine and reacted appropriately to Morgan's jokes, and the plans Rossi's wife had for decorating their several guest bedrooms and the new beach house they'd bought in the Hamptons, her eyes kept drifting in the direction of the floppy haired man quietly reading at the far side of the table. Only Spencer would take a book to a bar.

"Does he work with you?" she asked, when Derek noticed her watching as Spencer flicked quickly through the pages of the paperback.

"What? The kid with the book?"

She nodded, smiling inwardly at how easily Spencer blocked out all the noise and concentrated on whatever was going on in his own word-filled world.

"He does," Derek responded. "But he's kind of weird," he continued dismissively, quickly moving the topic along. "Do you want another drink?"

JJ didn't answer; she was too busy trying to understand how Spencer came to be the "weird" tag along. He certainly had his quirks, and he'd been a little awkward in their first days working together, but he was very much a central part of their group.

"Jennifer?"

"Yeah. Thanks," she replied, already formulating a plan in her head.

As soon as Derek left, equipped with the drinks order for the table, she got to her feet.

"Spence?" she said without thinking, as she slid into the seat directly opposite the man and his book.

He looked up in surprise, adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose at the sudden movement of his head.

"How do you know my name?" he asked.

"Derek told me," she answered, quickly covering her slip up.

"No one calls me Spence," he told her, unsure whether he liked the modification, or it just added to his bewilderment at why the woman who seemed set to be Morgan's latest conquest had chosen to sit with him.

"What are you reading?" she asked, with a kind smile.

"The Narrative of John Smith," he replied, closing the book and showing her the well-worn cover.

A sick feeling came to rest in her chest, as she thought of the close association between the book and Maeve. She prayed that he hadn't had to go through the loss of his girlfriend without the support of the team. Maybe in this world, wherever and whatever it was, he hadn't had to lose her at all.

"Is it good?" she asked, looking hopeful as she awaited his response.

"Yes," he nodded, and she immediately recognised the flicker of a happy, yet painful, memory in his eyes.

Subconsciously, she reached out and placed his hand over his. For a second, he contemplated pulling away but somehow he felt at ease around the stranger.

"Hey, Reid," Derek greeted his younger colleague, as he returned to the table and noticed that Jennifer had moved to sit at the other end of the table.

"Hi," Spencer responded, pulling his hand out from under JJ's and shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Spencer was telling me about his book," JJ informed Derek, encouraging him to sit down and join in the conversation.

"That's cool," he replied, eager to keep the blonde onside. "What's it about, kid?"

JJ smiled as Reid began to ramble on about the plot of his book. It wasn't much, but it was a start compared to the two men she knew as close friends sitting at opposite ends of a table.

"It's time to go," Clara told her, suddenly appearing at her side.

"Not yet," she responded, rather shortly.

"What was that?" Derek asked, puzzling over the woman's sudden statement.

JJ felt the heat rush to her face as she was caught replying to the girl that only she could see. The passing sensation of happiness was over.

"Nothing," she mumbled. "Excuse me one moment."

/  
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JJ charged through the bar towards the restrooms. Clara followed, effortlessly moving across the crowded dance floor and through the door she was sure JJ had tried to close in her face. Neither of them reacted as they walked past Rossi's wife, with her arms wrapped around a man who was definitely not her husband.

"Get out," JJ told a couple of girls who were stood by the sinks, reapplying make-up to their drunk and tired eyes, as she burst into the restroom.

They glared back at her for a second, before one of them muttered "psycho" under her breath and they quickly stepped past her and out of the room.

JJ checked all of the stalls to make sure they were alone, giving the last door a kick out of frustration and helplessness at her situation. Out in the bar, surrounded by her friends - even if they didn't know who she was - she'd been able to focus her attention on matters other than what was happening to her. And the reminder that she had bigger concerns made everything so much harder for her to handle.

"What did you do that for?" she demanded.

"Because we have to go," Clara replied calmly, apparently unfazed by the older woman's sudden burst of aggression.

"Why?"

"You're only visiting," she responded, leaving JJ unsure if it was an answer to her question or just another cryptic clue to what was happening.

Without another word, Clara turned in the direction of the door and made to leave, her hand pausing on the handle as JJ opened her mouth to speak.

"Can I at least say goodbye?" she asked, her anger having fizzled out and been replaced with a new, dull ache in her chest.

Clara nodded without glancing back to face the other woman. If JJ had been able to see her eyes she would have seen a look of worry far beyond the girl's years. The agent was noticing that all was not right with this world, but she was yet to realise just what was wrong. She was getting there, just not quickly enough. And the timer on her second chance was constantly ticking away.

/  
>

"I have to go," JJ told Morgan reluctantly, upon rejoining the group.

Rossi's wife had also returned at some point and was perched on his lap, running her fingers through his hair and giggling at everything he said. Spencer had opened his book again and only looked up when she spoke.

"Do you want me to walk you out?" Derek offered, disappointment evident on his face.

She nodded, grateful for a few more minutes with her colleague, even if he wouldn't understand the significance.

"So, we could just get back to my place, if you're wanting to get out of here," Morgan suggested, his hand lingering on the small of JJ's back as they stood just outside the doorway.

"I can't," she responded.

Clara was waiting, just feet away, trying not to hurry the agent but knowing there was a lot more to be done before the night was over.

"Take my number," he said, extending a small card with his name and contact details, which she accepted and slipped into her pocket.

"Look out for Reid," she whispered, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, and pulling him into an unexpected hug.

"Sure thing, blondie," he agreed, puzzling over the woman's reluctance to let go. The hurt and anxious look in her eyes when she eventually did made him feel uneasy. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she insisted, brushing off his concern, and trying not to think of all the times she'd seen that same look on his face before. "Thanks for the drinks," she added, forcing a smile.

"You're welcome," he replied. "Goodnight, Jennifer."

A small smile and wave was all she could manage, given the lump which had formed in her throat. She wanted to drop the pretence of a polite exchange with a stranger and scream at him that he was one of her closest friends. She wanted to march straight back into the bar and scream at them all. To tell Reid that he didn't have to skirt around the others like he wasn't "cool" enough to fit in. To remind Rossi that he didn't need a cheating, gold-digging wife to make him happy. And to show Morgan that he didn't need to hit on anything with a pulse to feel loved and secure.

But instead, she stepped into the full, bitter chill of the night and squeezed her eyes tight shut, wishing she knew how to put things right and wondering if there was a place where her friends were living the lives that they should.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Back to the "real" world with this chapter. Thanks for all reviews, follows, favourites and for reading. I was so indecisive about how/if to write this chapter but I'm reasonably happy with it now. Despite the slight delay this will be finished by Christmas and the next chapter is my favourite so it'll be up really soon! **

/  
>

The first round of messages and calls they received were attempts to sound casual, despite his growing concern.

_"Have you heard from JJ?"_

_"I don't suppose JJ's with you?"_

His worry only intensified with each response in the negative. She wasn't answering her phone. She wasn't with her friends. And what he'd said...

"Hotch, have you seen JJ?" he asked, putting all his hope on the last call.

The unit chief sighed. He'd been trying to put his earlier conversation with the blonde agent out of his mind. He'd been too hard on her. And as he'd worked on the reports for the case, he'd realised just how distressing the previous night must have been.

"No, I've been at the office since we returned and she's not here," he replied. "Is something wrong?"

"We had a fight," Will replied, not wanting to get into the details. He was embarrassed at how he'd reacted to what was no more than his wife doing her job.

Hotch felt even more uncomfortable at this revelation. He'd never known JJ to disappear following an argument.

"Have you tried Emily or Penelope?" If she was in need of support or someone to listen to her rant about her insensitive boss and husband, then she'd likely have found her way to her girl friends.

"They haven't seen her either," Will responded, running a hand through his hair as he racked his brains for any other possibility of who she might have called or where she might have gone.

"It was a tough case; she probably needed to clear her head," Hotch suggested, unsure as to whether this information was reassuring or would simply cause the other man to feel worse.

"What happened? I thought you got the guy?" Will enquired, picking up on the details Hotch had purposely left out.

Hotch hesitated, glancing at JJ's notes on how the events had transpired. They were still spread out across his desk as he tried to finish up in time to spend the evening at home with Jack. JJ's account provided more insight to the tragedy than the rest combined.

"We did, but he killed his final victim before we could stop him. JJ was there. She shot him and then stayed with the girl until she died," he answered, wishing he didn't have the ability to recount the facts with such cold detachment.

Will fell silent; he'd given no thought to what might have kept her away from home for so long.

"I didn't know..." he mumbled after a few seconds.

"She'll be fine," Hotch insisted, attempting to ease the guilty feeling they seemed to share. This was JJ they were talking about - she'd been through days just as tough as the past twenty-four hours. "Let me know when you hear from her," he added, more anxiously than he'd intended, eradicating any reassurance his previous words had offered.

Will hung up the phone and wandered anxiously around the house, before sitting on the stairs in full view of the front door. He watched the frosted glass pane intently, as though sheer will alone would cause her to materialise. But of course it didn't.

Where on earth was she?

/  
>

The second round of messages were identical and offered no pretence that everything was okay.

_"JJ's in the hospital. Accident at mall."_

It was composed using one hand, while he used the other to zip up his son's coat. A nurse had phoned him only moments before, informing him that a Jennifer Jareau had been brought to the ER with a head injury. He'd been informed she was unconscious, but that was all the detail the woman was able or willing to give over the phone.

"Daddy, what's going on?" Henry asked, looking puzzled as his father grabbed the first pair of shoes he could find and threw them in his direction. He'd been playing in his room, waiting on his mother returning so that they could finally decorate the tree which had been in its stand, but entirely bare, for three days, when he had suddenly been called downstairs.

"Momma's had an accident; we need to go to the hospital," he told the boy. He didn't want to take Henry with him - especially when he had no real idea of JJ's condition - but he wanted to get to his wife as quickly as possible.

"Then when are we going to put the angel on the tree?" Henry asked, not quite comprehending the seriousness of situation.

"Later," Will promised, with the most reassuring smile he could manage. "Now get your shoes on." He didn't trust his trembling hands to tie his son's laces without betraying the full extent of his fear at what could happen to his wife.

While Henry sat down, sticking out his tongue as he fastened his shoes, Will tried his hardest to stop his mind replaying the last thing he'd said to her. What if it was _the_ last thing? If he hadn't picked a fight then she wouldn't have gone out. If she hadn't gone out she wouldn't have got into an accident. She wouldn't even have been at the mall. She'd be here, where he needed her more than she'd ever know.

"I'm ready," Henry announced, pulling his father's sleeve when he didn't respond.

Will forced his lips into a smile and tried to control the panic which he was sure reflected in his eyes.

"Good job, buddy," he said, nodding towards the carefully tied laces. "Let's go see Momma."

/  
>

"Will!" Emily called, rushing into the waiting room and approaching the detective and his son. She had been closest to the hospital when she received his text, and had immediately turned her car around to meet him there.

"Thanks for comin'" Will responded, as Emily pulled him into a tight hug. "I don't want Henry hangin' around here."

She glanced around the room, noting the assortment of drunks and arguing families. Somehow the already tense atmosphere of an emergency room was only amplified by the holidays. Amongst it all, Henry was perched on a chair, swinging his legs as he played a game on his dad's phone.

"Any news?" she asked, trying to read Will's expression.

He shook his head.

"They're runnin' tests but she's not woken up."

Emily placed her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze.

"She'll be okay," she reassured, her voice sounding so certain that Will almost believed her.

"Can you take Henry home?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied. "Hotch is on his way to wait with you."

"He should be with Jack; it's Christmas Eve. I'll be fine," Will insisted.

"Jack's with Jessica. Hotch wants to be here for you and JJ."

Will nodded, thankful for the support, even if he didn't want to mess up anyone else's Christmas plans. It amazed him how quickly JJ's friends had sprung to action making sure everything was taken care of. Reid and Morgan were even collecting her mother from the airport.

"Henry, are you gonna go with Emily?" Will asked, drawing his son out of his game.

Henry looked up, an uncertain expression coating his face. He didn't want to leave his dad but he didn't want to stay here either.

"We could see if Penelope wants to join us," Emily suggested, knowing that this incentive would convince Henry to leave the hospital. She'd already had Garcia on the phone, looking for something she could do to help. None of them liked to be stuck at home waiting for news.

Henry immediately looked brighter at the mention of his godmother and slid off his seat to come and stand between Emily and Will. Will ruffled his hair and forced a smile.

"Be good," he instructed, bending down to adjust the boys scarf before he went outside. "I'll see you soon."

"Will Momma come home when you come home?" Henry asked with a slight frown. He'd thought he would see her at the hospital and didn't like not knowing what was going on.

"I hope so," Will answered truthfully, struggling to keep up the cheerful front for his son.

Emily squeezed his arm again, before she took hold of Henry's hand. It didn't seem right to see the two LaMontagnes without JJ. It was so obvious that someone was missing. And somehow, it seemed there was more than just the "Staff Only" doors separating the blonde from her family.

As Emily and Henry stepped outside, and Will returned to pacing the room, and the others waited by the phone or drove along dark roads, they shared one thought. And whether it took the form of a wish, a hope or a prayer, it was exactly the same.

_JJ, please come home. _


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: As planned, here is a much quicker update. This was one of the first chapters I wrote for this story so I hope you like it. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing the last chapter :)**

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JJ wasn't entirely sure when, or how, they had left the bustling streets for the suburbs, but the bars and bright lights had been replaced with picket fences and Christmas trees. It was a picturesque neighbourhood which might as well have been taken straight from the illustrations of a children's book, but JJ was only vaguely aware of her surroundings. A dull ache had started deep within her skull and she was feeling increasingly tired and cold. The pain, and accompanying sensation of detachment from wherever she was, only caused further distraction in her already muddled brain.

"Where are we going now?" she asked, wondering how much longer they would have to walk.

Clara didn't speak but simply came to a stop outside of one of the barely distinguishable suburban houses. JJ peered inside, looking for some sign as to why this particular house was so significant. A Christmas tree covered in twinkling lights, and the warm glow from the fireplace lit up the window.

"That's what I wanted for Henry this year," she mused, fighting against her throbbing head to straighten up. Her attention was soon drawn to the front door and the sounds of movement behind it and she was surprised to see Kevin Lynch emerge onto the front step with a small child hiding a little way behind him in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" he asked, standing as tall, and sounding as authoritative, as he could. It was evident he was a little perturbed by the blonde stranger standing around outside his home.

"I was just admiring your tree," she answered, noting how easily the lie slipped from her lips.

"Is she okay?" called an instantly recognisable voice from inside the house. Moments later, Penelope Garcia emerged onto the doorstep.

Despite everything, JJ felt a smile spread across her lips at the sight of her friend.

"She was looking at the Christmas tree," Lynch explained, still appearing wary of JJ's presence as he wrapped an arm around Penelope's shoulders.

Penelope however did not seem to share his unease towards the stranger.

"You look half-frozen, sweetie!" she exclaimed. "Would you like to come in for some cocoa? We just made some for the kids."

Kids. That meant more than one. A feeling of warmth spread through JJ's body as she took in the seemingly idyllic life of her best friend. She glanced towards Clara, looking for approval before she accepted the invitation. The girl simply shrugged dismissively. It was JJ's choice if she wanted to see more.

"I don't want to put you to any trouble," JJ replied cautiously. It would seem odd if she was too eager to enter the home of someone who knew nothing of her, but the cold which seeped through her boots seemed close to reaching her bones, and, more importantly, this time she wanted to see the life her friend could have been living.

"Nonsense," Garcia insisted, shaking her head. "It would be no trouble at all."

"Thank you," JJ smiled, opening the gate and making her way up the path. As she reached the front step, her vision momentarily blurred, and she was glad she'd soon be sitting down. It seemed that just when she was starting to get a grip on this unknown world a whole new problem was being thrown in her direction.

/  
>

"I'm Penelope Lynch," Garcia introduced herself, having ushered her visitor through to the festively decorated living room.

JJ tried not to react to the difference in her surname.

"Jennifer," she said, as she was instructed to sit on the end of the sofa nearest to the fire. "Jennifer Jareau."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Jennifer," her host smiled, taking a seat at the other end of the sofa and scooping the curious toddler, who had followed them into the room, onto her lap. "And this, is Emily," she added, tickling the child and causing her to giggle.

JJ's carefully formed smile faltered at the name as she thought of the child's namesake.

"Do you have any children?" Penelope asked.

"I have a son," JJ replied. "Henry." And then more of that cold sadness pooled in her chest. "But he's not here," she finished quietly.

Penelope gave her a sympathetic smile.

"It must be difficult at this time of a year," she said.

"He's not dead!" JJ exclaimed quickly, correcting the other woman's mistake and unintentionally startling Emily. "Sorry, I just..."

"It's okay," Penelope assured her. "I shouldn't have pried."

They shared another apologetic and understanding smile, before JJ continued the conversation.

"What do you do?" she asked, wishing she could act more naturally, but resisting the urge to curl up in a ball against the intensifying pain which radiated from the back of her head to her temples.

"I look after this one and her equally cheeky big brother," she answered, directing a grin at her daughter.

JJ didn't manage to disguise her look of surprise quickly enough.

"I know, I know," she responded with a shrug. "I wasn't going to give up work at first, but Kevin managed to convince me. And now I see that it is better for the munchkins that they have their Mama at home." Despite the smile fixed across her face their was a sadness in her eyes. She surprised herself by revealing so much to this stranger, but somehow she felt as at ease with Jennifer as if she'd known her for years

JJ couldn't imagine Garcia not working her magic in her tech lair, and she certainly couldn't picture her giving up that side of her life on the word of a man. She wondered what else her friend had sacrificed for this "perfect" family.

At that moment Kevin joined them, accompanied by a boy of about six or seven, and carrying a tray of mugs. The boy smiled at JJ and then again at Clara. It was then that JJ noticed that Emily's eyes were also trained on the space where their unusual visitor sat, and a look of concern appeared on her face.

"We need another one," the boy said as the mugs were passed around.

"I don't think we do, junior," Penelope corrected kindly. "See, there's you and me, and there's Daddy and Emily, and there's Jennifer over here," she explained. "That's five."

"What about the lady that came in with Jennifer?" he asked, staring at the apparently empty seat opposite JJ.

JJ shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the girl, as if to ask for an explanation. Her head was spinning and she was barely hanging onto the conversation. She couldn't deal with any additional complications.

"What?" Clara muttered. "It's not my fault if they can see me." She folded her arms across her chest, like the teenager JJ supposed she once had been.

"Don't play games, Dylan," Kevin chastised. "Sit down and drink your hot chocolate."

Dylan looked towards JJ, hopeful that she would provide support for his insistence that there was a sixth person in the room. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, she remained quiet.

"Mommy, why the lady not have a drink?" Emily mumbled, glancing up at her mother.

Kevin's wariness increased further and even Penelope appeared a little anxious at her daughter's words.

JJ widened her eyes at Clara, hinting that the girl should leave, but she simply shrugged again.

Her interaction with the person that only the children could see did not go unnoticed by the others.

"I think you should go," Kevin demanded, turning to JJ. He didn't know what was going on, but if there had ever been any doubt that he didn't want this unknown woman in his house, it had now disappeared.

"Kevin..." Penelope began to protest, but quickly closed her mouth. She hated the idea of this obviously disturbed woman leaving into the night by herself, but she also wanted to avoid another argument with her husband.

JJ's own distress was overtaken by her anger at how quickly her friend seemed to cave to the word of her husband. The Penelope she knew wouldn't do anything she didn't want to do.

"It's okay; I'll leave," she said getting to her feet, and throwing a quick glare in Clara's direction. Realising that she had nothing to lose she approached Penelope and quickly took hold of her hand. "Penelope, please remember who you are," she begged. "You are a kick ass technical analyst. You are the best hacker I've ever met. And you are so much more than Kevin Lynch's wife."

Penelope's eyes momentarily locked with JJ's, as though she was believing everything the woman said. But then her eyes moved to meet her husband's.

"He's right. I-I don't know what's going on, but should leave," she mumbled, withdrawing from JJ's touch.

"I'm going," JJ assured them before Kevin could say anything more. As she left the room, quickly followed by the man of the house, Penelope's voice drifted after her.

"Merry Christmas, Jennifer," she called, with a little uncertainty.

"Merry Christmas, Garcia," JJ replied, longing to be back in her friend's office amongst the tinsel and lights and joy.

Back where they both belonged and where they would laugh at the thought of any man ordering her around.

There had to be a way for her to make everything right again.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Short chapter as we get closer to the end. Also getting dangerously soppy, but I figure that's allowed so close to Christmas, and it will most definitely continue in the last couple of chapters! Thanks for reading and for all reviews, follows and favourites.**

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The swirling of the snow against the dark sky only added to her dizziness as she stumbled away from the house as quickly as she could. Between the tears and her rage she was hardly able to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, but she just wanted to be alone.

Clara followed, wishing she hadn't had put JJ through so much. It seemed cruel to taunt her with the pain and disappointment of her friends' lives when she was already hurting so badly. But words alone were never going to be enough to show her that her life was important.

"What did you do that for?" JJ snapped suddenly, though she still refused to stop and face the girl.

"I didn't do anything," Clara answered trying to keep her tone even so as not to antagonise JJ further.

"You wouldn't leave! You scared the children!"

JJ sped up, concentrating all her energy on moving forwards.

"You couldn't have stayed," the girl insisted, effortlessly quickening her pace to catch up with the agent. "You were only there because she wanted to make sure you were okay. She doesn't know you; you don't know her."

JJ finally came to a stop, almost losing her balance as she swung round to face Clara.

"She wasn't a stranger! That was my best friend!"

"That wasn't Penelope Garcia," came the clear and pointed response

"It could have been - I just needed a chance to get through to her," JJ sighed. All Garcia needed was for someone to remind her that she was capable of doing anything on her own. That she didn't need someone else to make her life complete. That she could make whatever decisions she wanted for herself.

"But you can't do that; you don't exist."

"This can't be happening," JJ muttered, shaking her head in disbelief as the reality that she could do nothing for her friends fully set in. "How can I fix it?"

If Clara had answered her question, she didn't hear it. She was too distracted by a photograph in a discarded newspaper lying on the ground. A familiar face seemed to stare back at her from the open page. His kind eyes were as they had always been, and he looked proud in his dress uniform. She had a picture just like that, creased and worn, but always with her in her wallet. Right next to the first photo taken after Henry was born.

She almost smiled as her mind filled with thoughts of how those lips would greet her with a kiss every morning and how she would never grow tired of listening to his soft Southern drawl.

But then her eyes were drawn to the headline adjacent to the photograph and the sense of despair returned with a vengeance.

"How did he lose his shield?" she asked, her bleary eyes preventing her from focussing on the finer print of the story.

Clara sighed, crouching down beside JJ and frowning at the newspaper.

"He never solved the case," she explained. "He never recovered from his father's death. He was distracted and made some mistakes."

"Why didn't the BAU help him with the case?"

"They didn't pick it up. There were other priorities. It was a judgement call."

JJ chuckled humourlessly. It seemed bad judgement calls were the theme of the moment. She wondered if whoever had overlooked Will's request for assistance knew the consequences of that single decision. If they were lucky they'd be oblivious.

"What does he do now?" she asked.

"JJ..."

The blonde agent raised her eyebrows, ignoring the pain the simple movement caused. She could handle it.

"He drinks and he sleeps," Clara admitted reluctantly. There was no gentle way to express the state of his life at a time when she was hitting rock bottom.

"It isn't fair," JJ mumbled, rubbing her temples. "He doesn't deserve that." Will cared about his work and he cared about the victims he tried to help. She could only imagine how much failures or mistakes would hurt him. Even in a different world they had that in common.

"Do you understand now?" Clara asked tentatively, hoping that she did. There wasn't much more she could do.

JJ sighed, feeling the exhaustion take root in her body as she straightened up and began to pace back and forth on the sidewalk in front of Clara. She got the idea. The world didn't become a magically better place without her. But she couldn't see how she was the one that made sure no one could dent Garcia's confidence or made sure Reid knew just how much he was loved. Or had such a significant impact on their lives.

"Why do I make such a difference?" she asked, thinking out loud.

"Because you're the glue," Clara told her, with a faint smile. "They need you."

JJ looked up from where she had been staring at the footprints she created in the snow. It had been years since Garcia had told her the very same thing. She'd dismissed it then as part of her friend's emotional response to her transfer to the Pentagon, just like she was ready to dismiss it now. But maybe there was something in it. Maybe she was meant to be with them. Maybe they needed each other.

She stared at Clara as she thought of everything she had seen and tears spilled silently onto her cheeks. This wasn't what she had meant to happen. She'd wanted to stop her family from hurting, not to cause them more pain.

"But what about you?" she asked quietly. "If I hadn't been there. If I hadn't spooked him... It's my fault you got shot."

Clara reached out and took hold of her hand, once again enveloping JJ's cold fingers in her strange warmth.

"There's one more place we need to go,"she told the older woman.

"I can't; I don't want to see anymore," JJ protested. Her head was filled with pain and confusion and bursts of both justified and misplaced guilt.

"Just one more place and then my job is done," Clara promised, squeezing her hand and offering more comfort than she'd have thought possible from someone so young.

JJ nodded, pulling herself together as best she could. Clara gave her a reassuring smile. One way or another it would all be over soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks for reading, following, favouriting and reviewing :) I hope you're still hanging on with these daily updates - ideally I'd have spaced them out a little more! The last one or two chapters (still have to edit and decide whether to split them) will be up tomorrow before I become my mother's kitchen assistant for the holidays!**

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By the time JJ knew what was happening, she found herself in an entirely different location. The road running through the village didn't have a trace of snow, but the lights in the windows and on the roofs confirmed that it was Christmastime. And it wasn't a place that JJ was likely to forget.

The last time she'd been here, she'd been speeding down the street in an SVU. Her adrenaline had been pumping as she desperately willed the distance to her destination to close at a quicker rate. She'd been clinging onto the small shred of hope that, this time, they'd get there in time.

But of course they hadn't.

Her eyes glanced sideways towards Clara, trying to gauge how returning home was affecting the girl.

"I'm fine," she insisted, as though she had heard JJ's thoughts. "This isn't about me."

As they walked in silence, JJ realised they were heading to the church in the centre of the village. A sickening sensation, which had nothing to do with her headache, settled in her stomach as she noticed the sombre faces of those around her. These were not people filled with the happiness and celebration which ordinarily accompanied Christmas.

Clara stepped ahead and led them into the church, where they slipped into a pew towards the back. The interior of the building was already busy and filled with low and serious chatter, and with the soft introductory music of the organ. Candles flickered at the end of each pew and, as they were gradually passed around, in the clasped hands of the congregation.

Upon taking a seat, JJ picked up the paper booklet which lay beside her and felt her heart sink further at it's contents.

_**In memory of Clara Richardson**_

_**January 12th 1997- December 23rd 2014**_

If there was one thing she'd hoped to have been different as a result of her non-existence it was this, but it appeared this strange world had one last cruel blow to deliver.

"I seem to have hi-jacked the Christmas Eve service," Clara laughed awkwardly, as JJ frowned at the words before her.

"Did it happen the same way?" JJ asked, whispering despite the fact there were at least three pews between them and any living person.

"Does it matter?" Clara shrugged. "Do you see my parents?"

JJ nodded, and released a light sigh, as she watched the grief-stricken couple clinging onto each other and to their surviving child.

"Whether you were there or not, he still killed me. And that's all they care about. I still died."

Now it was JJ's turn to take the hand of her companion. For the first time since she'd woken up in her office, JJ saw tears forming in the girl's eyes, and her calm and even tone was shaken as she recounted the fact that her life had ended.

"It will get better for them," she whispered. "I've seen it before. They'll never be the same but one day it won't be so bad."

"I know," Clara replied, squeezing JJ's hand, as the organ swelled and the congregation got to their feet.

Soon the old building echoed with the first lines of "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks". JJ saw the relatives, friends and neighbours of the dead girl, who somehow stood by her side, hold hands or lean close to one another in support as they sang.

"It was my favourite carol," the girl told her.

JJ smiled sadly. It seemed that everyone had pulled together to remember the young woman they'd be spending Christmas without. It wasn't often she stayed long enough to see this side of a tragedy. And as the service progressed, the comfort which spread through the church, with every anecdote and memory of the girl, reached the agent who sat quietly in the back.

"Do you get it now?" Clara asked, as they wandered back along the street, after everyone had dispersed. "No one could have saved me - just like there will always be people you won't get to in time. But you were there when I died."

"You remember that?" JJ questioned, looking slightly surprised.

Clara nodded, recalling the light touch of JJ's fingers as they stroked her hair, and the relief the agent's arms provided from the cold floor of the barn. It hadn't just been pain and fear which surrounded her in the last minutes of her life; it had been the soothing words of a mother and wife and friend, who would have done anything she could to ease the suffering of a stranger.

"You matter so much more than you think," she told her. "You're part of the good in the world, and even when you feel like you're completely alone or that everything is falling apart, there are people who will be there for you, just like you are for them."

"You know a lot for a seventeen year-old," JJ replied, with the hint of a grin to counteract the moisture glistening in her eyes.

The girl shrugged and laughed, very much reflecting the young woman so fondly remembered by those who had spoken in the church.

"Dying does that to you," she joked darkly.

JJ wasn't sure whether to smile or chastise the girl for being inappropriate.

"You'd get on with Emily," she responded at last. "And probably the rest of the team as well."

Clara smiled again, seeing a spark return to the older woman's demeanour, and feeling confident that her job was almost successfully done.

"Do you want to go home yet?" she asked, watching JJ's expression brighten further as she thought of her family. "They're waiting for you."

"Can I do that?"

"If you want to," Clara smiled. "I bet you'd like to see Henry and Will."

JJ nodded, picturing her husband and son, and knowing that she wanted nothing more than to be with them again. She'd take it all - the fights, the stress, the disappointment - just as long as she had another shot at the good.

"But what about you?" she asked, thinking of Clara and experiencing a deep wave of sadness. She wouldn't be returning to her family; she'd never have a second chance at life.

"Don't worry about me," answered the girl, dismissing JJ's concern. "I have a feeling I'll be getting me some wings soon," she winked, turning to walk away.

"Where are you going?" JJ called, a curious, weightless sensation taking hold of her limbs, and distancing her from the now quiet street.

"Surely you don't need me to take you home?" Clara answered, her voice fading, as she glanced back over her shoulder before disappearing right before JJ's eyes.

As Clara vanished, the world around seemed to grow darker, and JJ grew strangely weak. Her legs gave way and she collapsed to the ground, her eyelids growing heavy and her vision blurring as she did so. Between the dulling of her senses, an assortment of voices and sounds seemed to float around her head. Henry's excited voice and Clara's laugh. The occasional line from a Christmas song, crackling over the stereo system in the shopping centre. A gunshot. Hotch getting angry. Spencer sounding worried. Will telling her he loved her. The bustle of frustrated, tired shoppers.

Things she wanted to remember and things she didn't. Reality and this other world that she hoped she'd be able to leave.

And then nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So, we're coming to the end of the story... I really hope you enjoy the last chapter. It's Christmas so of course it will be full of family fluff!**

**/  
>**

The darkness was soon replaced by the sensation of bright lights beyond her closed eyes. The sounds of the bustling mall or the quiet street no longer filled her ears and instead, she could hear hushed voices and distant shouts. Phones were ringing and buzzers sounded as all kinds of electronic machines joined the chorus of human voices.

Suddenly, as though she'd only just remembered how, she forced her eyelids apart and slowly her gaze came to focus on an unfamiliar face above her.

"Welcome back, Miss Jareau," the nurse smiled, noting down her patient's latest vitals.

"JJ?" Will gasped, shooting out of the seat beside the bed and hovering over his wife.

She turned towards him, grimacing slightly at the return of the dull ache at the back of her head.

"Darlin', I'm so sorry," he gushed before she could open her mouth to speak. "What I said to you... I love you, JJ. I need you - we all do."

"Where's Henry?" she managed to ask, her mouth feeling dry and her mind struggling to process what had just happened and what was happening now. Sifting through what was real and what was not proved to be harder than she imagined and that one test question was all she could think to say.

"He's with Emily; he's fine," Will answered, gently pushing JJ's hair behind her ears and watching with an expression of pure relief as she spoke and responded to what was going on around her.

"With Emily?" she repeated tearfully.

"Yeah, with Emily and Penelope. And Spencer and Derek are pickin' up your mom at the airport. You gave us a scare," he continued, unable to take his eyes away from her face.

"I want to go home," she mumbled, feeling overwhelmed.

"We'll get you home soon, sweetie, but that was some knock to the head," the nurse told her. "I'm going to get your doctor now that you're up."

"Thank you," Will replied, taking hold of JJ's hand.

"What happened?" she asked. She knew what she had experienced, but she doubted Will's explanation was going to be be quite the same.

"You don't remember?" he frowned.

Carefully, she shook her head.

"Some decorations fell from the ceilin' at the mall," he explained.

"Seriously?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow as a small smile played on her lips at the absurdity of the situation.

"It's not funny," Will replied. He was sure he'd aged several years with the stress since he'd received the phone call from the hospital.

"I'm still here," she mumbled, squeezing his hand, and remembering the strange sensation of Clara's fingers wrapped around her own. Had that really happened?

"I hear someone's awake," said the doctor, who had returned with the nurse. The man looked tired but the smiling snowman on his tie hinted that he was trying to involve himself in the spirit of the season. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm okay," JJ replied. "I just have a bit of a headache. When will I be able to go home?"

The doctor shone a light into her eyes and examined the figures the nurse had written on her chart.

"Do you feel sick or dizzy?" he asked, to which she shook her head. "Any weakness in your arms or legs?" he continued, testing her reflexes and having her push against his hand with each limb in turn.

"Is everything okay?" Will asked, taking hold of his wife's hand the moment the doctor had finished his examination.

"Everything looks good," the doctor assured him, before turning his attention back to JJ. "I just want to run a few more tests and keep an eye on you for a few more hours. You were out for a while. But if all is well, we'll have you home for Christmas," he added with a smile.

JJ returned his smile - home had never seemed so appealing.

/  
>

"Momma!" Henry shouted, somewhat sleepily, as JJ and Will returned from the hospital. He'd insisted on waiting up for his parents coming home, and was positioned between Emily and his grandmother on the sofa.

"Hey, buddy," she grinned, as he threw his arms around her legs, and she lifted him into her arms.

"Careful," Will murmured, ensuring he was right behind JJ should she lose her balance.

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked, too happy to have Henry in her arms to be concerned about any lingering effects of her head injury.

"I wanted to see you," Henry replied, pressing his head against her neck and tightening his hold around her.

"Here, come and sit down," Emily suggested, standing up and placing a hand on JJ's arm to guide her onto the sofa.

Instead of sitting down, JJ wrapped the arm that wasn't supporting Henry around her friend's shoulders and held her close.

"What's that for?" Emily asked with a puzzled laugh, though she returned the hug.

"Nothing," JJ answered, releasing the brunette and settling on the sofa with Henry.

"How hard did you hit your head, honey?" her mother asked, her own laugh hovering somewhere between amusement and unease as her daughter reached out and took hold of her hand.

"Morgan and Reid should be back soon," Emily remarked when the room fell quiet again. "They've been out on a city-wide search for Christmas lights for that tree," she grinned, indicating the still undecorated tree in the corner of the room. "And Garcia and Rossi disappeared out to find us all something to eat."

JJ smiled, content in the knowledge that her friends were exactly where they should be. She'd already seen Hotch at the hospital and he'd insisted on driving them home before he returned to Jack. He'd been almost as apologetic as Will, assuring her that he'd been frustrated by the outcome and that he by no means blamed her for what happened. While she'd listened to everything he had to say, his words had been unnecessary. An angry outburst now seemed irrelevant; there were more important things with which to concern themselves. And she'd made it very clear that right now, on a Christmas Eve where they all shared a renewed sense of the importance of family, his priority and his place were with his son.

/  
>

Less than an hour later, extra chairs had been moved into the living room to accommodate all the visitors. Pizza boxes and empty containers of take-out soup were strewn across the table and mugs of hot chocolate sat on coasters dotted around the room. Rossi and Garcia had done well in tracking down the few stores and restaurants which remained open late on Christmas Eve.

"Penelope, I'm fine!" JJ insisted, as her friend draped a blanket around her shoulders.

Penelope took no notice and continued to fuss with the blanket until she was satisfied that JJ would be warm and comfortable. Then she took a seat by her side.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else? More soup? Hot cocoa?"

From JJ's other side, Emily laughed and shook her head. The injured blonde was going to have to get used to this treatment for the next few days at least. Between Garcia, Will and her mother, there was very little chance she would get to do anything for herself.

"I'm okay," JJ replied, taking a firm hold of Penelope's hand, as though to reassure her that she was there and that she wasn't in any danger of falling to pieces. "But thank you," she smiled.

"Anytime, sugar," Garcia responded, returning her friend's grin. "But could ya try not to get hit by anymore falling angels?" she teased, causing the three of them to laugh, mostly out of gratefulness that they were able to do so.

"Grandma, what's this?" Henry asked, drawing their attention to where he and JJ's mom were sorting through a box of ornaments for the tree. He dangled a colourfully painted lump of clay from its ribbon, and held it out for everyone to see.

Sandy chuckled, as she realised exactly what her grandson was holding.

"Your mom made that when she was little," she explained.

"But what _is_ it?" Henry asked, squinting at the object in confusion.

"It's Santa!" JJ exclaimed indignantly, just as she had done every year since she was seven and had proudly produced the ornament from her backpack upon returning from school.

The others exchanged smirks at her reaction.

"And it always goes on the tree," she added, daring someone to challenge the tradition.

"Why don't you put it over here?" Rossi suggested, directing Henry towards a branch which would be almost entirely obscured from view. He winked at JJ as she glared in his direction and Henry followed his suggestion.

While everyone failed to stifle their laughs, Will leaned over the back of the sofa and gently rested his hands on JJ's shoulders before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He'd happily cover the tree in his wife's childhood artwork. All that mattered was that she was there to see it.

/  
>

The process of decorating the tree lasted a lot longer than it should have. That was partly due to Reid and Morgan's insistence that they were in charge of the lights, and the fact that Henry had control over the rest of the operation, and partly due to no one being in any particular hurry to leave the warmth of their impromptu get together.

At last, all that remained was for the angel to be positioned at the top of the tree. Will lifted Henry, as the boy clasped his fingers tightly around one of the angels wings.

"Higher, Daddy!" he instructed, stretching out to reach the top branch.

JJ held her breath for a second. She knew Will had a tight grip on him, but given the days events she couldn't help but be a little overly cautious when it came to her family. However, it wasn't long before Henry was back on solid ground and she relaxed.

"What do we need now?" Spencer asked, as his godson stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Lights!" Henry shouted, dashing over to where Spencer crouched on the floor beside the switch.

They counted down as though the tree formed part of an elaborate city square display, rather than the last minute decoration of an average family home. And then the string of lights sprung to life.

"Do you like it Momma?" Henry asked.

JJ smiled, taking in the full effect of the mismatched ornaments and the rather fierce glow of the lights, which explained why they were the only set available on Christmas Eve. Tinsel hung in untidy clumps and the angel tilted at an angle, bending the top of the tree.

Her gaze shifted to her son's proud and expectant expression and to the beaming faces of the rest of the tree decorating team.

"It's perfect," she grinned.

/  
>

Christmas day was a relatively quiet affair in the Jareau-LaMontagne household. It had been late before everyone had left the previous night. Will, who was taking the instructions JJ's doctor provided very seriously, had insisted that she got some rest, despite her protests that she was fine. Aside from her concussion, the doctor had found nothing wrong, but that didn't stop Will from staying awake most of the night, not just to wake his grumpy wife every couple of hours, but also to reassure himself she was still breathing between times.

Despite the fact that they were a little sleep deprived come morning, JJ and Will couldn't fail to share Henry's excitement when he saw that Santa had visited. The pile of beautifully wrapped parcels explained why Sandy was struggling to conceal a yawn as she sipped her morning coffee. The older woman also proved to be a miracle worker when it came to pulling together Christmas dinner from the preparations Will had abandoned the day before.

Now, after all the excitement of the day, and his late night waiting for his parents and decorating the tree, Henry was sleepily listening to the story his Grandmother read. Will was also dozing off as he listened to Sandy narrate the story of Ebeneezer Scrooge.

JJ, however, found herself standing by the window, watching out into the darkness. Of course what she had experienced the previous day had been the result of a concussion. There were no such thing as angels; it was all an illusion created by her traumatised brain. But it felt so real_._

"Everythin' okay?" Will asked, stretching and cracking his neck as he came to join his wife by the window.

She nodded, settling comfortably into his embrace, and they remained together staring out at the quiet street.

"Did you hear that?" JJ asked suddenly, searching for the source of the soft chimes.

"What?" Will puzzled, frowning slightly as she spun round to face him and almost lost her balance.

"I thought a heard a bell," she mumbled, feeling crazy and wishing she hadn't opened her mouth.

"Clara," Henry said with a yawn.

"What?" she exclaimed, turning too quickly once again, so that Will had to steady her.

"Do you mean Clarence?" Sandy asked, smoothing a hand over her tired grandson's hair. "We watched "It's a Wonderful Life" while we were waiting on you last night," she explained. "_Everytime a bell rings an angel gets it's wings_," she quoted, putting on the voice of a young child and causing Henry to laugh.

JJ smiled, but the chill which ran down her spine stopped it from reaching her eyes - a fact which Will was quick to pick up on.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked, his hands still maintaining a stabilising grip on her arms.

"Just tired," she replied distractedly, as she recalled the voice and touch of a girl she'd barely known in life. She shivered again - it had been so much more than a dream.

"Then come and sit down and listen to the story," her mother instructed. "You always loved it when you were little."

JJ did as she was told, curling up with Will, while Henry cuddled close to his grandmother, watching intently as she turned the pages of the old book.

As she listened to the soft sound of her mother's voice, and watched her boys slowly drift off to sleep, she gave up on trying to work out what had happened to her. Maybe she'd been dreaming while she was unconscious or maybe she really had been shown another world. All she knew, and all that mattered, was that she had a second chance to cherish the important things in her life and that she would never forget the girl who brought her home.

/  
>

It was a strange Christmas - that was for sure. But she didn't feel alone and she didn't feel the sadness she expected. She drifted between the homes of those whose lives she'd come to know so well.

A husband and wife were wrapped in one another's arms, with their son and his grandmother close by. Sure, they'd argue again one day and probably say things that would have been better off unsaid. All families did. For tonight, however, they fell asleep squashed together on the sofa, listening to stories of Christmasses past and dreaming of those still to come.

Elsewhere, best friends flirted as they drank copious amounts of wine to disguise the taste of Tofurky.

"Never again, Baby Girl," the man laughed, as he took a photo of the unfortunate dish and sent it on for others to see.

Amongst the tinsel adorned rooms of the Bennington Sanitarium, a young man had to adjust the paper hat on his head as he chuckled at an incoming message on his cellphone. He turned the screen to show the image to his mother.

"Do you remember I told you that Garcia's a vegetarian?" he prompted the woman. "I don't think Morgan's enjoying his Christmas dinner!"

The woman smiled as he continued to ramble on about his friends. While her mind wasn't always clear, she could tell her son was happy. And that was all a mother needed to know.

Back in DC, a dark haired woman and her Italian companion slipped away from the formalities of a dinner party with diplomats. Their relationship might have been entirely platonic, but she was beyond grateful for the presence of her "date".

"Thanks for coming," she told him. "I don't know how else I'd have made it past the fish course without accidentally stabbing my mother with a tiny silver fork!"

"What are family for?" he responded simply, before handing her a generous glass of Scotch.

And finally, across town, a little boy and his dad were caught up in a seemingly endless game of Chutes and Ladders. The father's cellphone was turned off and his child had all of his attention. It would be the next day before he received the photo of the dried out tofu or the drunken voicemail from two colleagues who were old enough to know better, and a day more before his mind so much as thought of work.

The horrors would resume quicker than any of them would like, but as she left the various constituents of the family to enjoy the last moments of the day, they were happy, surrounded by the best rather than the worst of the world.

As for Clara's family?

Christmas would never be the same again, but the house wasn't void of all light. Candles burned on the mantelpiece as they sat in quiet remembrance of what they had lost. But their daughter and sister would never really be gone. Not as long as there were people needing reminding of the beauty of life; not as long as she had her wings.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the story :) Thank you so much for reading and for every follow, favourite and review. Merry Christmas!**


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